Mary Ravensdale aka Molly Hooper
by smith001992
Summary: Molly Hooper left Hertfordshire the second after graduating from high school and she never really looked back. But her mother has asked her to come home and visit for the week. Molly regrettably agrees only to be blind sighted by a ball that her mother is throwing. How much worse could it get? Enter in Sherlock Holmes. Someone Molly used to know might be a murderer. The game is on.
1. Chapter 1

Authors Note: Hello. This is my first time writing a Fan fiction. Ever. Not just a Sherlock one. I am extremely nervous but also very much excited. I hope you guys like it. And review if you want to. Tell me what you liked and what you didn't like. Trust me, the things you didn't like are probably the things I didn't like and wanted to change but didn't know how.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I own none of these characters. Even though I would very much like to.

Chapter One.

Molly sat at her desk in the morgue and stretched uncomfortably. She had just finished examining a body. It had taken longer than she thought it was going to take and she was more than ready to go home. She glanced at the clock. She moaned in displeasure as she read 1 am and thought about the fact that she hadn't fed her cat since yesterday. She gathered her stuff as quickly as she could in her sleep deprived state and started heading for the door. She was more than half way there when the double doors opened in a hurry and before she knew it she was standing face to face with Sherlock Holmes. He started rambling on about a new case. A dead body of a young girl. High society type. Quiet interesting and very important, otherwise he wouldn't have taken the case. He was in need of her assistances, of course. He didn't wait for her response as he quickly walked past her and waited for the men to bring in the new body.

"I can't help you Sherlock." Molly said quietly.

"What?" Sherlock's confused icy glare was on her.

She hated when he looked at her like that. It was like she was the most disagreeable thing on this universe. She felt very little as she said, "I can't help you with this case Sherlock. I need to go home."

"I am sure you are very tired Molly. But as I said this case is very important and seemed at first glance rather interesting. I am quite certain that you would want to help out." Sherlock's voice and face expressions changed as he said this. A bit nicer and far more polite. Molly knew he was trying to use her. She was the best at what she did. But she simply could not help him this time. She had plans. Family plans. And she mustn't interrupt family plans. Not even for the Sherlock Holmes.

"I am sorry Sherlock but I have to go home. I have to leave early tomorrow morning…" Her eyes widened with realization, "and I haven't even packed yet. Ugh, I really must be going." She started to turn when he called out to her.

"Packed? Where do you have to go tomorrow? And why do you have to pack?" Sherlock asked with the most perplexed look on his face.

"I have to go home." Molly searched for the right words to explain the situation she was in, "Home as in where I grew up. My mother sort of needs me right now." Molly shuddered at the thought of having to see her mom. When she glanced at Sherlock she knew he was studying her. She was sure he already knew that she hated the idea of having to go see her mother so she gave him a small smile and said, "I would love to stay and help you with this case…" She paused a moment, not sure if she could continue. She took a deep breath and finished her statement, "I would tell myself I would just start it out for you tonight then I would go home and be on my merry way. But we both know I couldn't do that. I wouldn't be able to leave the case once I started it. I would want to stay and help until the murderer was caught. I mustn't get absorbed in a case when I have family matters to attend to."

He nodded as if understanding her situation, "How long will you be gone?"

"I asked for a week off, but told them it may take longer."

"Would it be rude of me to ask what is going on?"

That caught her off guard. Why would he want to know that? It was so personal. Well, not that personal actually. Asking someone why they are taking off work was not that unusual. Especially if that person hardly took a day off. But for Sherlock it was. Defiantly if he wasn't getting anything out of it. She wasn't a complete nitwit; she knew Sherlock was only nice to her when he needed something. He only said exactly what he needed to say to get her to do whatever it is he wanted her to do. He didn't say or ask anything more than necessary. "No it's not rude. It's just… some things I'd rather not talk about. You know? What am I talking about? Of course you know. You are the most secretive person I have ever met. Anyways, Bye Sherlock. I'll see you when I see you." Then she gave him a sort of a wave and went on home.

"Goodbye Molly Hooper," Sherlock said quietly as he watched her walk out. He was not expecting that. He knew she was most likely going to say no at first but he would have found some way to convince her to stay. He would have used a little charm and won his way with her, like he did every other time. She would have stayed until it was almost time for her to return again the next morning. But her not helping is not what he was expecting.

He knew that Molly would have stayed if she didn't have any prior engagements but it still upset him that she wasn't there to work on the case with him. Ever since she had helped him fake his death and lied to everyone to keep it hidden he has felt this overpowering need to be kinder to Doctor Molly Hooper. Besides if he was honest with himself he really did enjoy her company. She was starting to stutter less and seemed to be more comfortable with him than she used to be.

He shook his head. He had work to be done. This case wasn't going to solve itself. This is why he always believed emotions and feelings just weren't for him. They kept him from his real love: solving crimes.


	2. Chapter 2

Authors Note: As I am sure you noticed Molly's part was longer because honestly I don't think I can portray Sherlock as well as I wish I could. He's just brilliant and complex. And I am so much like Molly so doing most of the stuff from her perspective just fits. That is also why she gets more of a backbone this chapter. Hope you enjoy. (Sherlock's parts do get bigger in later chapters)

Disclaimer: Not mine. None of it. Except for the words. I can claim those.

Chapter Two.

Molly always felt so guilty on the one hour ride to her mothers. To begin with her mother only lived an hour away and Molly hardly ever had the chance to go visit her and secondly Molly never actually got the desire to go visit her. Sure she was on good terms with her mother but the kind of lifestyle she left behind in Hertfordshire was left behind for a reason. All the outlandish parties. All the cover-ups and schemes. All the talk about how money is the most important thing in life. All the set up dates. All the weird looks for being different. And all the rumors that can change your life in a second. She swore she would never go back unless it was to visit with mother shortly and then leave as quickly as possible. Since the day she left she has never been back to Hertfordshire to even spend the night.

But her mother called her a few days ago and asked her to come home to visit for one week. That's all the time she needed. Was that so much to ask for when they hadn't seen each other in months. She soundly utterly depressed. Molly didn't have the heart to say no. Even though it was such a short notice her boss was exceptionally pleased with giving her the time off that she asked for. Probably because she had never asked off for time in advance before, the only days she didn't go to work were when she was so ill she couldn't even get out of bed.

The cabbies low whistle drew her out of her head and into the real world. They were pulling up to the place she grew up in as a child. The Ravensdale estate was praised for being one of the most outlandish and beautiful estates in all of Hertfordshire. It was one of the oldest homes. It had two towers on either side of the house, making it look like a castle. There was a row of beautiful trees on each side of the very long driveway. In the backyard there was a maze. Yes a real maze. Her mother's favorite book growing up as a child was Alice in Wonderland so when she married Molly's stepfather and they moved into this estate she had them install a maze made out of tall bushes. In the middle of the maze there were beautiful rose trees and a fountain that had stone playing cards in tribute to her favorite book. Making it the end of the maze with a good book was Molly's favorite activity growing up.

For the first ten years of Molly's life she was used to having nothing. When she was a child she knew that she came from a very poor family, but it didn't faze her at all. She didn't care about not having the same toys and clothes that the other kids had. She just loved spending time with her mother and father. That is all she ever needed or wanted. Then her father got sick and everything changed. She once told Sherlock that she saw her father sad when he thought her mother wasn't looking. She found out after he had died that the reason he was so sad was because her mother was having an affair. She had gotten pregnant by that man and decided to marry him less than three months after her father's funeral. And it just so happened to be that that man was a duke. Everything in Molly's life changed. She wasn't ready for it at all.

The cab stopped at the end of the driveway. Molly took in a big breath and tried to calm herself by saying that it was only one week. What could possibly go wrong in one week? A butler was waiting at the door when she rang the bell. He was new, but she was not surprised, her mother often found things wrong with the butlers and maids and asked them to leave at once. There seemed to be new ones every other week while she was growing up. The only people that ever stayed the same were her nanny and the cook. Molly's two favorite people in all of Hertfordshire.

She took a deep breath and looked around at the place she used to call home. The interior design was breath taking and for one second she was almost content with being home. But then she heard her mother's voice, "Mary!" Her mother gave her a tight hug then let go and gave her the once over. Her mother studied everything about Molly from her head to her toes. Judging everything she wore. Molly hated this part of seeing her mother the most. "Well look at you. Don't you just look like a country bumpkin?" Her mother laughed.

"Hello Mother. It is nice to see you too." Molly said in the most sarcastic voice she could muster. "And I like to dress comfortably. We have already talked about this."

"Yes, yes I know dear. We have talked about this numerous times. I just think that you could dress a little nicer, you know? There are very cute clothes now a day that are both stylish and comfortable."

"I do not care about being stylish Mother."

"Well that is obvious." Her mother said with a sneer. She seemed to smirk a little when she saw the cringe that Molly gave.

This might be a record Molly thought I have been here for less than five minutes and out come the claws already. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves before saying, "I do not wish to stay here for a full week Mother if all you are going to do is antagonize me. I might as well just turn around and leave. I am sure the cab I rode in is still in the driveway."

"That won't be necessary honey. I am quiet sorry about the way our conversation started. I apologize."

"Alright, I won't leave just yet. But why am I here?" Molly asked. She had been wondering why her mother asked her to come visit since that telephone call a few days ago. She tried asking her on the phone but her mother would not respond.

"We are having a get together… well more like a ball." Her mother started before Molly interjected.

"A party? Mother! You know how much I despised the parties I had to partake in when I was a kid." Molly shrieked. She could not believe this. The reason she was coming back to Hertfordshire was for one of the main reasons why she left in the first place. She trembled thinking about the last time she went to a ball.

"Yes well. This party is in honor of our family. So I am sorry, but you had to come." Molly saw something in her mother's eyes. She knew it was for more than that.

"What else?" Molly asked with irritation.

Molly's mother hesitantly said, "Well, I was also hoping that you would find a suitor before the night was over."

Molly's eyes grew with alarm. "This ball is for me to find a suitor? That is so embarrassing."

"Of course not honey. But all of your old classmates have been informed of your return as well as other single men around your age. I am sorry, but you are almost entering into the non-marriageable age. I don't want to see that happening." She patted Molly on the shoulder in the most uncomfortable way, "I just want to see you happy."

So many things were running through Molly's head. She only had the energy to say, "When will the ball be?"

Her mother smiled, "Friday my dear. But you know before then we must take you around town and to gatherings to see friends you haven't seen in quiet awhile. Ohh and shopping, we must go shopping!"

Molly didn't feel like responding she just nodded her head and mumbled that she should really go to her room and unpack her things. She didn't understand why she had to be here for a week. Mother could have just told her about the ball and she would have showed up. Why did she have to spend the whole week here doing things she didn't want to do?

Once she had made her way through all the hallways and staircases she finally made it to her old room. She hadn't been in here in ages. She missed it very much. When she and her mother moved in her stepfather told her to go exploring and pick whichever room she wanted. She had made her way throughout the whole estate not knowing which room to pick, they were all so beautiful but she didn't feel at home in any of them. She got to the right tower and climbed the spiraling staircases. There was a room up there. It was completely empty and rather small compared to all the other rooms but she fell in love with it. Not to mention there was a door that led to the small roof. Up on the roof gazing at the clouds during the day and the stars during the night is where she spent most of her time. She was up there right now. A thousand thoughts scurrying around in her head. She was regretting coming here. She should have stayed at home. She should have stayed with Sherlock. She could be doing what she loved most right now: solving crimes.

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson sat quietly in the cab as it drove them to their destination. Sherlock's mind was on overdrive. Everything about the case was circling around in his head. They were going to a ball where he was quiet certain the murderer was going to be. Now they just had to wait to arrive.

It had been five days since he brought in that victim to Molly and she had turned him down saying she had family issues. Five days since he had last seen or talked to her. He couldn't figure out why she would always come into his mind at odd times in the past five days. It was probably because her replacement was a fool. He was nowhere as good as Molly. He missed having her there to work with. Not that they said much. When they did it was usually either him criticizing her or her stuttering and making a fool out of herself, hence his criticism. He couldn't understand why he was missing her though. Sometimes they would go days, weeks, or even months without seeing each other and during those times he had never even thought about her before. Sure when he had faked his death and was hiding out for those three years he would think back to all of his friends and she would cross his mind. But he thought it was because he was so grateful that she helped him. So why did he miss her so much this time?

Perhaps it was because all of those other times the reason they hadn't seen each other was because of him. He had no cases. No reason to just go and visit her. To be honest when he wasn't in the morgue or on a case Molly never used to cross his mind. Too many other things were always weaving their way in and out of it. This time though she was the reason they hadn't seen each other in almost a week. She wasn't there to give him company. Wasn't there to be an extra set of hands and eyes. Wasn't there to be the best Pathologist he knew. Wasn't there to do everything he asked her to do. She just wasn't there and he did not like that at all.

John nudged Sherlock's shoulder indicating that they were at their destination. Sherlock looked out of the window and was surprised by the vastness of the Ravensdale estate. He obviously knew it was going to be a big estate, it was after all owned by a Duke. He thought back to some of the facts he knew. Edward Ravensdale had a daughter with his first marriage, a step-daughter that came with his second marriage, and a son that he had with his second wife. This ball was being hosted in honor of his family. Because that's what rich people can do, they can have a celebration just to honor themselves. Sherlock huffed at this, his family was not poor by any means but that just seemed ridiculous. But the good thing about this was that everybody of importance was going to be there. Including the murderer.

Sherlock and John made their way in the ballroom. Sherlock looked around the room. He took a moment to study everyone that he saw. He saw right through all the lies and deception that the people in this room had to offer. The higher class may have nicer things but they had much uglier secrets. Sherlock smiled at this. Time to unravel the truth. "Alright John time to investigate. Mingle and talk with everyone that you can." With that he started making his way around the ballroom.

After about an hour of being there scooping out the place and making it look like he belonged as best he could Sherlock finally found the person he was looking for. A Mister Duncan Wright. He was standing next to a gentleman around the same age as him and they were having a lively conversation. Instead of trying to join in Sherlock decided to eavesdrop for a little while before making his presence known.

"Did you hear that Mary Ravensdale has returned?" Duncan Wright asked his companion.

"Really now? I guess that shouldn't be much of a surprise. This celebration is for her family." He replied. This other man's demeanor reminded Sherlock of himself. He voice was cold and callous. He was almost as tall as Sherlock. He had blonde hair and a cleft chin. He looked like one of those Calvin Kline models.

Duncan Wright grew nervous as he said, "I know that Harvey. But she hasn't really returned since high school… Since uhh that last ball that her mother threw for her." Both men kept quiet. Neither one said anything for a little while then Sherlock heard Duncan take a deep breath before continuing. "You don't think she'll mention anything do you? I mean it could ruin your reputation. I know everyone already kind of knows. But they have really only heard the rumors about it. They have never heard from her what actually went down that night."

Harvey gave Duncan a chilling sadistic smile before saying, "I think our little Mary is probably just as shy and awkward as she has always been. One little smile from me and she won't utter a word. She will be putty in my hands, as usual."

Sherlock was 0.0089 seconds away from introducing himself to the two men when a man on the top of the staircase interrupted him with a loud bellowing voice. "Hello Ladies and Gentlemen I am here to introduce the Ravensdale's. Even though everyone here should know who they are," he joked. There were a few chuckles throughout the room. Sherlock looked around the ballroom bored. He didn't have time for this. Who cared about this rich snobby family anyway? He was about to walk away when he felt a nudge on the shoulder. John had found his way back and was subtlety telling Sherlock to be polite. Sherlock sighed and looked back up at the man introducing the family. Edward Ravensdale was already standing at the top of the staircase with his wife Alice Ravensdale standing next to him.

"Next we have the very beautiful and very pregnant Annabel Boulstridge with her husband Edward Boulstridge." Everyone around Sherlock clapped and whistled at the happy couple. Sherlock rolled his eyes. Why must ordinary people be so fascinated with love and happiness he wondered.

The announcer waited for the applause to stop before he continued. "Now I know most of you guys have heard but the prodigal daughter has returned to us this evening," he paused for dramatic effect, "our lovely Mary Ravensdale." Gasps and whispers went throughout the ballroom. Sherlock looked around with wonder. Why would everyone be so surprised with someone returning home? He zoned out for what seemed like an eternity. He was trying to deduce everything about everyone in the ballroom and it was giving him a bit of a head ache. He was brought back to reality when he heard John take in a deep unsteady breath. He glanced up at the young woman that everyone was so surprised to see when his own face matched theirs. Standing before him was Molly Hooper.

She hardly looked like herself. She was in a beautiful red satin dress that fit her body in all the right places. It had a mesh see through top that showed cleavage he wasn't even sure she had. Her hair was down and in huge curls. She was wearing more make up then he had ever seen her in but it still looked natural.

"Look at that. Little Miss Mary has grown up on us." Sherlock heard Harvey say in a low voice. "Now I really am sad for what I did to her at that party." Duncan nodded his head in agreement.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three.

Disclaimer: I still do not own any of the characters.

Molly had spent the last five days in total misery. Her mother had dictated everything that they did last week. It had been horrible. Tea Party gathering. Shopping. Meeting with people she knew in high school but never talked to. Shopping. Debutant meetings. Shopping. Constant nagging. More Shopping. Molly was quiet certain she had enough clothes to last her a lifetime. She was exhausted and tired. She just wanted to go home. She was going to get through this party with clenched teeth.

She had strict instructions to stand on the top of the staircase, plaster a huge smile on her face, and wave. She was doing extraordinary well considering the butterflies in her stomach until she saw him. Sherlock Holmes was standing in the middle of the crowd with a bewildered look on his face. She could feel her eyes grow large as she met his. They just stood there gazing at each other until her mother touched her hand to let her know they were to walk down the stairs and join the party.

Many men and women stopped to talk to her. They all wanted to shake her hand and ask her what she was doing with her life. Her mother had warned her about this. Everyone would want to talk to her. They hadn't seen her in years. They would be very curious about what she was doing, whom she was with, and where she had been all these years. Eventually she made her way to him.

She felt very small next to him. She looked up at him and couldn't look away. Every time they had been around each other Molly had always been a stuttering fool that would look away the moment his eyes met her. Maybe it was the countless hours it took making her look this good or the dress she was wearing but she was finally confident enough to keep his eye contact for longer than a few seconds. Her eyes slowly made their way down to his lips. She imagined them on hers for a half a second before she looked down embarrassed. After a moment of silence Sherlock finally broke it by greeting her with a simple, "Hello."

"Hello Sherlock." She said with a polite smile, "How is the case going?"

"Very well. I believe I know who the murderer is. I just need to make sure. Get him to confess somehow or something. There isn't any real evidence and we can't arrest him on just what I say Lestrade says."

"Who do you think it is?" Molly asked wondering if she might know the person that Sherlock assumed it was. She probably didn't or she knew who they were but never really talked to them. She hadn't seen most of these people in years and even when she did live here she didn't communicate with most of them.

"Duncan Wright."

Molly's heart dropped and her smile vanished. Duncan Wright? He couldn't have killed someone. He was always so nice. So much better than all the other boys in her grades. After the incident that made her leave he sat with her by the fountain in her backyard and they talked for hours.

"Is there a problem?" Sherlock asked obviously noting the change in her attitude.

"I just… I can't see Duncan doing something like that. Or at least the Duncan I used to know. But time changes people I guess."

She glanced at Sherlock when she noticed he hadn't responded. It looked like the wheels were turning a thousand miles a minute in his head. Then suddenly he got a wicked smile before saying, "So you know Duncan do you? That could be of great use to us."

Molly rolled her eyes. Of course it would. That is all she was good for. Being of use to Sherlock. "And what exactly would I do?"

"I am not sure yet. Since you know each other perhaps you could get him to confess."

"Yes, Sherlock we knew each other. Years ago. I am quite certain he doesn't even remember me. Why would he confess to murder to a person he once knew a long time ago?" Molly shook her head in disbelief. She couldn't believe that she was standing up for herself and not stuttering. But she was so tired. She just wanted to go home. She was already dreading this party all week and now she had to deal with the very judgmental Sherlock Holmes. "That is ridiculous. You may be a genius but you are quite daft when it comes to people. How can you know so much, yet so little?"

"I wasn't aware you were from a family of wealth. Or that you had lied about your name" Sherlock said in his low questioning voice.

"Well you've never really taken the time to find out now have you?" Molly replied with in an annoyed tone. Sherlock's eyebrows rose as a confused expression crept onto his face. Molly liked that look on him. He seemed more human when he didn't seem to know everything.

"I didn't think that there was anything else about you that I hadn't already discovered through my deductions." Sherlock said in a cool and icy voice.

"Although this may surprise you Sherlock you can't discover everything about a person in a glance." She took a deep breath and plunged into the rest of her rant, "Before you say anything about how you can. You can't. You just can't. Unless you know exactly everything that that person has been through and what they are thinking and who they are. If you don't know any of that than you know very little about them. Sure, you may know what I ate for breakfast, you may know in the way that I say mother that I hate visiting her, and yes for you it was quiet obvious that Jim Moriarty wasn't interested in me. But beyond that and other insignificant things you know nothing about me." After she finished she gave Sherlock a little curtsey and went on her way to converse with the other people in the room. She had had just about enough of Sherlock Holmes and his mouth. Although just a few moment ago she was thinking about it on hers.

Sherlock and John watched her as she walked away. Unsure of to what to say. Sherlock was taken aback. He had never heard Molly so ruthless before. What shocked him even more was how much he liked it. He loved the little fire that she had just shown. It showed that she was more than just mousy little Molly. He wasn't sure what to do next. He really did need her help. It would be of great use to have someone undercover that knew the culprit. He was going to have to apologize for whatever he did to upset her.

"So you really didn't know this about her?" John asked mystified.

"Uhm, no. She never really gave off the rich and powerful demeanor and nothing points to this part of her past. I never really looked for it though. I deducted what I needed to when it came to Molly, nothing more."

John just nodded. After a few minutes, "You know you are going to need to apologize, right?"

"I'd gathered that much."

Sherlock looked to where Molly was at the moment. She was leaving the ballroom through one of the sets of double doors in a hurry. Sherlock noted how her mother rushed after her as gracefully as possible, so she wouldn't cause a scene. He looked towards the dance floor, where they had both came from, and saw that Harvey guy cupping his cheek out of pain. Sherlock's eyebrow rose in anticipation. He wondered what could be happening. This night was getting far more entertaining by the second. He decided to follow them. He wanted to know what was going on and he needed to apologize. It seemed as though Molly was a lot more interesting then he originally thought.

He entered into what seemed to be the servant quarters when he saw Molly's mother grab her by the arm. She exclaimed in an unpleasant tone, "Where do you think you are going?"

"Where do you think mother? My bedroom! I need to gather my head and settle down." Molly shouted in a voice that Sherlock had never heard her use before.

"Do not use that tone with me missy. You may be thirty years old but you do not need to speak to me like that!" her mother replied with in a frigid tone. Molly opened her mouth to respond but shut it quickly. She glared at her mother through the small slits in her eyes. "Well now that you have seemed to calm down why don't you explain to me what had happened."

Sherlock was afraid that the reason she was so upset was because of him. He kept from shuffling his feet out of worry because he did not want to be discovered. "Did you not just see Harvey Johnson get all handsy with me out there on the dance floor?"

"No. I just saw you get rude with him in front of everyone and leave in a rush."

"I knew you wouldn't understand!"

"Of course I don't understand! There is nothing wrong here! Harvey is a nice young man. Who is single and from a very pleasant and wealthy family. Honestly I find nothing wrong in seeing you two together."

Sherlock could feel the death glare that Molly was giving to her mother. She took a deep breath before choking out, "You know perfectly well why I cannot stand Harvey Johnson. Do not stand there acting like you haven't heard what happened." Sherlock stood there in shock he couldn't believe Molly could dislike anyone as much as she seemed to dislike this man unless there was a perfectly good reason. It had to be for a horrible reason too. Sherlock gritted his teeth as he tried to figure out what this person did to her.

"I haven't a clue what you are talking about Mary. I have heard nothing."

"Do not lie to me! I know you have heard! There is no way that Mrs. Lerwick, the town gossip, didn't rub it in your face. That your gullible, clueless, strange daughter could be that dumb." Molly was breathing heavy and looked to be on the verge of crying. Sherlock clenched his fists. He wanted to hurt this guy and he hadn't even heard what he had done yet.

Alice opened her mouth to reply back to her daughter. But she closed it quickly, looked down, and looked back up with regret in her eyes before saying. "Fine I may have heard a rumor or two. But I didn't even know if they were the truth or not. As soon as you graduated you left for college and never looked back. You never told me what happened. We don't talk about anything."

Molly settled down a bit before answered quietly, "I was humiliated mother. I was in love with Harvey for years. When he actually started showing some interest in me I couldn't believe it! I thought I was the luckiest girl alive. We started secretly meeting. We decided on the day of my eighteenth birthday when you threw that huge ball for me that we would have sex. We snuck up to my room during the party. Afterwards we walked back down to ball and all his friends were waiting for us. They were laughing and giving him high fives. I had no idea what was so funny. Until I overheard them say that they just couldn't believe that he got shy little prudish Mary Ravensdale to sleep with him. Then they started handing him money. I lost my virginity because of a bet! Do you know how that made me feel? Not only that, but the whole school knew about it! I was the laughing stock of this town! At least when I was quiet and mousy I was invisible. I would much rather be invisible! I actually like being invisible. I don't get hurt. I may not dress the way you want me to and you may think I am leaving marriageable age and that no man will want me, but I do not care! Unlike you I do not need a man. I have made it perfectly fine on my own."

Sherlock smirked at the end of Molly's speech. That was one of the things he admired about Molly so much. She may be in love with him and she may go on too many dates, well more than he would prefer her to go on anyway, but when it comes down to it Molly is very independent. She is strong willed and loves her job, dare he say it, as much as he loves his.

He was brought back to reality when he heard Molly scream again, "Are you kidding me! Even after I admit to you what he is like you still want me with him? I refuse to lower myself to his level just so I can become a rich house wife."

"That is uncalled for Mary. You are being unkind and rather unforgiving."

"Unforgiving?! He ruined my senior year mother. I could stand here and argue about what he did to me for hours. But it would go in one ear and out the other. You care more about your reputation and status then you care about me." With that Molly turned around and pushed the doors in what seemed to be the kitchen open. Sherlock stayed unmoving in his hiding place. Even though he would love to give Alice a piece of his mind he knew he didn't have time to. He watched as she let a few tears slip. It may not seem like she loves Molly very much but Sherlock would have to detect that she actually does. She wiped the tears that were falling down her cheeks, she straightened her shoulders, and composed herself before stepping foot back into the ballroom. Sherlock shook his head, who knew Molly Hooper's life could be so interesting? He snuck into the kitchen and tip-toed to the pantry. Thankfully Molly and some older woman were too preoccupied with talking to notice his entrance.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I own nobody : (

Molly watched with admiration as her favorite person prepared her favorite meal. She sat at the servants table, where she ate most of her meals growing up, and tried to steady her breathing. Standing up to her mother like that was new to her. Her mother and she always fought a little bit, but nothing like that. She didn't know how she was going to mend their relationship now.

Molly looked up when Mrs. Johnson cleared her throat, indicating that the food was done. Molly hungrily looked at the plate. She saw a hamburger with mustered and mayonnaise on the burger; lettuce, tomato, and pickles on the side; and a great big pile of French fries lathered up in ketchup next to it. Her mouth watered as Mrs. Johnson moved forward to place the plate in front of her.

"Thank you so much! Have I told you lately how much I have missed your cooking?"

"Only every day since you have returned my dear." Mrs. Johnson sat down the dinner in front of Molly and went on to say, "I will never understand what you like so much about this American food though"

"It was the year after mom married Edward. We took a vacation in America during the summer. They had the most incredible food there. So much better than the nasty caviar I was being forced to eat at every dinner party that I was forced to go to. You began working here about a month after we got back." Molly paused for a second as she remembered back to the time that Mrs. Johnson became like a mother to her, "I remember being upset one night. I was crying ever so hard. Probably about my father death. I wasn't quiet over it yet. Well to be honest, I guess I'm still not completely over it. Anyways, you knocked on my bedroom door and asked if there was anything that you could get me. I had no idea what to say. I panicked and yelled out that I wanted a hamburger because it was the only thing that I could think of. When the hamburger was ready instead of just calling me down to come get it you brought it to my room. And then you just sat there until I was ready to talk." Molly looked up and met a teary eyed cook as she finished her statement, "Honestly, I don't know if I like the hamburger or the memory more. I just know it's my comfort food because it reminds me of you."

Mrs. Johnson wiped a tear from her eye before she said, "Hush now. You're going to make me cry all over this food. You always did have a way with words. I thought for sure you were going to be a writer, or if you hadn't been so shy a speaker of some sorts. But I suppose with your genius and oddness a pathologist really was the best choice."

Molly laughed full heartedly as she imagined herself speaking in front of dozens of people. In her mind she stood tall and confident. She spoke clearly and loudly. It made her smile wide. But it quickly turned into a frown when Sherlock's face appeared in the audience and all she could do after that was stutter and mumble.

Mrs. Johnson noticed the sudden frowned and asked Molly what was wrong. Molly responded with, "Oh nothing I was just imagining how ridiculous Sherlock would think that idea was. With my constant stuttering and all."

Mrs. Johnson rolled her eyes and chuckled before she said, "If you would just admit to being in love with him your stuttering would probably stop."

"I am not in love with him!"

"Uh huh. Then why do you stutter? Only around him might I add. And why do you talk about him constantly?"

"I stutter around him because he makes me nervous. I feel uneasy whenever he is around. I know he is deducing me. It makes me uncomfortable, people usually can't read me, but he does it so easily. It's like I am an open book. It's weird. And I talk about him constantly because we work together. When I ring you up and our conversation turns to my job of course I have to mention him. He's a huge part of it."

"Okay. Okay. I believe you. But don't deny that you at least fancy him a little."

"Maybe a little. But that's just because he's so attractive. And his voice, it gives me chill bumps. And I love when he goes to his mind palace, he'll just sit in the chair for hours with his hands under his chin and as soon as his eyes open he'll be on his way because he's solved his case. So yes I may fancy him a little but I am definitely not in love with him. Besides he's an ass and it's been getting on my nerves more and more every day. Using me. Ugh, it's so annoying! He's my friend, at least I think, he doesn't have to manipulate or flirt with me to get his way. He just needs to ask nicely and then respect my answer to whatever he wants from me."

Mrs. Johnson nodded her head with great interest, "I wish I could meet him one day. You always talk about the incredible cases that you guys solve."

Before Molly could reply they heard a low baritone voice cut in and say, "I believe I could arrange that."

Molly's eyes grew huge and her eyebrows shot up as she stuttered her next sentence, "Wha-What…are…yo-you…doing…uhm…in here?

"Coming to look for you, of course."

"Why?"

"To apologize."

"Oh" She meant to say more. She didn't like the uncomfortable silence. She wanted to talk and mumble about how she forgave him and it was alright. But a bigger part of her wanted him to properly apologize. She even admitted to herself that she would love to see him beg for her forgiveness. She knew that wouldn't happen so she would just have to settle for a sincere apology. So she waited until Sherlock cleared his throat and awkwardly continued.

"I am deeply sorry for upsetting you early. I did not mean to make you feel as though I was using you."

"It's okay Sherlock."

"I do have to add though, that I still believe that you knowing the culprit will help us in the long run. If you don't mind helping, that is."

Molly sighed, "Sherlock, I don't know how I could help you. I haven't talked to Duncan in years. I don't think he would even want to talk to me."

"You would be incorrect about that. When you came out in…"he paused as he looked her up and down. He awkwardly cleared his throat and then finished, "that dress. His reaction was one of great interest. I think that he would very much like to see you again."

Molly's cheeks burned red with embarrassment. Both at the way Sherlock looked at her and knowing that Duncan found her attractive, "Fine. But what do you want me to do? I don't think he is going to end up telling me that he murdered someone. That isn't exactly pillow talk…I mean! I wouldn't sleep with him… that's not what I meant… I mean… Just… how would I get him to confess to me?"

Sherlock's eyes narrowed at her exclamation at sleeping with Duncan but went back to normal in a second, "I think you talking to him may lead to some clues, plus if you go on dates with him and I know exactly where he is I would be able to search his house and office without any interruptions."

Molly pulled out her phone and started searching her contacts. "What are you doing?" asked a confused Sherlock.

"Uhm, calling Duncan?"

"I thought you hadn't spoken or seen him in years."

Molly had the phone up to her ear as she whispered to Sherlock, "I haven't… Oh hello. Yes. This is uhm Molly. Oh sorry! I mean Mary. Mary Ravensdale. Is this Duncan?" Sherlock glared as she sighed and smiled when she heard his familiar voice reply back to her, "Hey! My mother gave me your number, actually she gave me about 100 numbers of classmates that I no longer talk to, thinking that maybe I would. Yeah, she's still a little crazy. Actually she seems to be getting crazier. Haha. How have you been? Yes, I've been fine. I work in London as a Pathologist. Uh huh, I love my job. Look I was uhm wondering if you would mind talking. Like in person? I wanted to meet up at the fountain. In like 15 minutes. If you want to that is? You do? Great! Okay I'll see you there soon! Thank you so much! Oh. Thanks. I've miss you too." Molly hung up the phone and smiled at Sherlock, "Was that okay?"

Sherlock looked down at his pathologist. Part of him wanted to reply with a hurtful comment because he didn't like how friendly she seemed to with this man he believed to be a murder. But her eyes were so big and shining so bright. He could tell she was enjoying this. Not because she was going to see Duncan again but because she was helping him. Plus she was having fun. So he let a small smile slip and said, "Yes. That was fine. John and I will need to wire you before you go down. So we can document everything that he says." He was surprised when her cheeks started to turn red. And for the millionth time he wondered what was going through her mind when she got so flustered with the innocent things he said. He sent out a quick text to John and introduced himself to Mrs. Johnson.

"As you may have realized by now I am Sherlock. It is an honor to meet you."

Mrs. Johnson reminded him of Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock understood why Molly loved this woman so much. Her smile was so welcoming it almost made him feel at home. Instead of taking the hand that he offered she went in for a hug. Sherlock uncomfortably looked over her shoulder and spotted Molly giggling. He narrowed his eyes at her but instead of it making her stop like he suspected it would her laugh grew louder. "Mrs. Johnson I think you are making him uncomfortable. Sherlock isn't really into touching."

"Oh! I am so sorry dear! But shaking hands is so impersonal. I feel as though I have known you for years with the stories that Molly has told." Of course Sherlock knew what she was talking about, he had just overheard them talking about that very thing, but he looked towards Molly and rose his eyebrows just to get a reaction from her. As he had hoped her cheeks turned red and she shifted her eyes downwards.

"I am sorry to say Mrs. Johnson that I have not had the same pleasure. Molly has not talked about you at all. Which is a great misfortune to me, let me assure you."

"Well of course she hasn't! Molly has always been very private. Sometimes it would take me hours to get her to talk to me about what was bothering her. This was probably something she inherited from her father. I had never met him myself but through the stories she tells I can see it being the cause."

"You are very observant Mrs. Johnson."

"Yes, well. Molly is the daughter I never had."

"Ahh. Yes. Five boys. All grown men now. And I would have to say 10 maybe 11 grandchildren. All boys as well."

"There is the deducting! I was hoping I would see it firsthand one day! You were right Molly, it is very uncomfortable when he does it. I feel as though he knows my whole life even though we just met a few minutes ago. And you are right Sherlock, all boys in the family. 10 right now, a daughter-in-law pregnant. We just found out the other day it was to be another boy. So many filthy crazy boys. Molly was a nice change of pace when I came to work. Don't get me wrong she was still filthy. Always doing experiments on animals. It would scare her mother to death." Sherlock couldn't help but smile at that. Molly doing experiments as a child. It was a nice picture to imagine.

"Why did you never tell me this Molly?"

"It… uhm… it never came up. Plus you don't really listen to what I say or you tell me to be quiet when I am talking because it disturbs your thinking." Sherlock looked down ashamed. Was he really that disrespectful towards Molly? Does she not know how much she matters? He told her once, maybe she has forgotten.

Sherlock quietly responded with, "I do listen to you what say."

"I… uhm… oh, well thank you. But, uh… yeah. I used to do experiments and autopsies on all kinds of animals and insects. That plus my obsession with death made me want to be a pathologist."

"Obsession with death?"

"Well maybe obsession is a strong word. My interest. I have always been very interested in death. Maybe it was because I watched my father die slowly. I don't really know. But come on Sherlock I work with the dead. I obviously have to have an interest with them."

Sherlock knew that of course. He always noticed her acute curiosity with every victim that came into her morgue. She was relatively unemotional with most of the victims, unless it was a brutal serial killer or any case that had to do with children. She looked at each victim with curious eyes and excitement. He never thought about that before. She always seemed just as excited as him about each case and victim. Maybe Molly Hooper was way less ordinary than he had originally thought.

Mrs. Johnson interrupted his thought process, "I thought she was going to end up committing murder this week just so would have something interesting to do."

"Ah. Yes. I definitely thought about it a few times. Every time mother made me try on a new article of clothing I thought of a different way to kill her. They got more and more interesting each time."

Yes. Very unordinary. Why had he never noticed this about her before? He had known her for years.

"Oh dear your mother would have a fit about that. She already thought you were going to end up being a serial killer when she found you killing that rat you found in the basement."

Sherlock scoffed at that. Molly a serial killer? The idea seemed very farfetched and unlikely.

"Oh yes. I know." Molly then changed her voice. Obviously trying to convey her mothers, "Mary! What are you doing! Did you know that animal torture is one of the leading connections to serial killers! No daughter of mine will end up behind bars. What would happen to our reputation if that happened?!" Molly stopped talking and frowned for half a second before adding, "That's when she took away my autopsy tools. That was one of the saddest moments of my life." Her small bottom lip came puffing out as she fake pouted. Sherlock caught himself staring at it. His eyes then traveled up and caught her questioning ones. Before he could respond to the earlier conversation about Molly being sadistic or try to cover up him looking at her lips they were interrupted by a very flustered John.

"You have to text me more than just, 'meet me in the kitchen. ASAP.' Do you have any idea how big this place is? How the bloody hell did Molly live her. And how on earth did you not deduce it."

Before Sherlock could say something Molly choked out an apology, "I am so sorry I never told you guys. I didn't really think it would be that big of deal."

"Yeah! But you even lied about your name. Like that's big, are you running from something? Trust me, if you are Mary and you should have a nice little chat."

"Uhm, no. I am not running from anything. And Molly Hooper is my real name. Molly is a nickname for Mary and I kept my father's last name after my mom remarried so I am still a Hooper. It's just that Mary is more formal and I go by my step dad's last name here so people will know who I am."

Sherlock still felt uneasy for not deducing all of this. There is always that one thing he misses. Although he's beginning to see that he has missed a lot when it comes to Molly. "Ah yes that all makes sense, now John lets tell you our plan."

"Uhm, Sherlock. You need to unzip my dress." Molly repeated to Sherlock. He was still in shock from hearing her say it the first time. His eyes searched to Mrs. Johnson who was far too busy making the desert for the ball. His eyes searched John next who was busily getting the equipment ready to wire her.

"I uh… yes. Of course." At this exact moment Sherlock understood why Molly's cheeks burned when he mentioned putting a wire on her. He placed an unsteady hand on her shoulder and another on the zipper.

He began unzipping her dress. Slowly. It was torture. He should have just done it quickly but he didn't want the zipper to break. He had never done this before. Undressing a woman. It was all so new to him. He didn't understand why his heart seemed like it had stopped one moment and then the next it was beating extremely fast against his chest.

His eyebrows shot up and he tried his hardest not to gasp when her back was revealed. It had 8 scars across it. Sherlock felt as though they were shaped like whip marks. Only three of them where prominent the other five were hardly noticeable to the untrained eye. He slid the zipper all the way until it stopped. Which was right above her butt. If she bent just a millimeter. Sherlock shook his head trying to get the image out of it.

"You-uhm… you done there Sherlock?"

"I-uh- yes. Yes. I am."

"Oh. Okay."

His eyes bulged out of socked while she slowly, not to rip or harm the dress, got her arms out of the sleeves and pushed the top of her dress down to right under her belly button. His eyes then searched her front next. He noticed a birthmark under her belly button and to the right. Right on her hip bone. A mole that was in the middle of her stomach about half way In between her belly button and her breasts. His eyes went up even further and took in her bra. It was black and strapless. He had incorrect information in his mind palace. He had her breasts at a 34 A but now that she wasn't in her baggy clothes he could tell that she was actually a 30 B. They were even close to being a C. He traveled up her neck. Her lips. They were small. But he had also been wrong about them being too small. They were kind of perfect in their own little Molly way. When he made eye contact with her he could see the questioning in her eyes. He had clearly been staring for a while and it must have been quiet obvious.

"I-uh. Mind Palace information." He defended. It was not a lie.

"I'm in your mind palace?"

Was she really that daft? He had told her she mattered. That she counted. Why would she not think she was in his mind palace? Mind Palace Molly had even saved his life once when he got shot. "Of course."

"Oh. By the way I-uhm-I am sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" Sherlock asked confused.

"I know how much you don't like touching people. And plus that must have been uncomfortable for you."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her. He didn't understand why he was angry at her for thinking that. He was not uncomfortable with touching. He just didn't understand the constant need for it. Molly was right though. He had been uncomfortable when he was unzipping her. But not wanting to touch her was not the cause. It was for the exact opposite reason. He wanted to touch her. Every part of her skin. He had never seen bare back. Or her only in a bra. It was all new to him. He was trying to take it all in. The birthmark she had on her hipbone. The scars she had on her back. The fact that her stomach was even paler than the rest of her. The only woman he had seen like that, with less than that, was Irene Alder and he hadn't wanted to see that. But Molly was different. He actually wanted to. And it scared him.

"It was necessary" he replied back gruffly and turned around so he wouldn't have to think about her in that way anymore.


End file.
